The Anatomy of a Predator
by GC Rust
Summary: Where does the civilized part begin, and the animal within end?


His world was sensation.

The light breeze that caressed the underbrush, the faint call of the birds in the distance, the lapping of waves upon the rocks a short distance away. And through the sounds and sights, a familiar sound - the drum beat of a terrified heart and the flood waters of blood being pumped into overtaxed muscles.

He'd been stalking the beast for over an hour, allowing it to tire itself out for this moment. He could have had it within moments of first encountering it, but chose instead of play the classic game of predator versus prey. It amused him, and he relished the sensations flooding into him.

The beast, a wild boar, finally emerged from it's crude hiding place among the tall grass. It snorted heavily, a testament to how long and hard it had run. Sniffing the air and glancing about, the boar never noticed the gray metal and gold colored creature crouching almost next to it. Red eyes lit in anticipation, and in an instant the boar squealed in terror as jaws that could tear into battle armor suddenly clamped down along its flank. The boar left the ground and was quickly airborne, but before it got far, the jaws slammed down again, and this time the boar could only manage a meager grunt before its life fled it.

The beasts life fluids ran down his metal jaws as he held it aloft. He savored the sensation of the warm fluid beginning to trickle down his neck. He knew the creature was dead, but worked it over with a few more powerful snaps of his jaws before finally settling down with it clutched within his mouth. Motion suddenly flickered at the edge of his perception, and he turned to regard the small gaggle of piglets making a dash from their mother's killer.

He spat out the corpse and let a earth shaking bellow and began stomping after the younglings, but hesitated and finally ceased pursuit. Shaking his massive head, the jaws still dripping with blood, he let out a half-snarl, half-groan, and turned back to the corpse of the sow.

As he re-entered the clearing with the sow, he regarded the small creature he had snuffed out. The experiences of the hunt were all fresh in his processors, but for his very Spark, he couldn't recall why he'd chased the creature or killed it in the end.

Grumbling, his form changed. He seemed to lean over then stand up, not on the powerfully built legs that ended with talons that could rip through tanks, but two humanoid feet. His stumpy front arms were replaced by strong, well proportioned arms that ended in hands with five digits. His powerful jaws and razor teeth vanished, in their stead replaced by a dark humanoid head with a face plate and visor.

Grimlock sat down next to the corpse and regarded his deeds. Even in robot mode, his body was covered in the sow's blood, and unlike a few moments prior he felt unclean. He didn't savor the warmth like he had, now he just felt disquiet in the core of his being.

Here, in this form, Grimlock was rational, calculating - more then a mental match for his peers despite his simplistic speech patterns. But in his alternate mode, that of a mechanical Tyrannosaurus Rex, Grimlock was a force of nature. It was difficult to rationalize with him, difficult to get him to cooperate. It was as if, for some reason, Grimlock contained the spirit of the predator long dead that fought to return.

Grimlock watched the pyre burn a short time later. It had seemed almost comical, to create a funeral pyre for a simple creature of this island's forest, but Grimlock had carried out the construction and ignition of the pyre without any humor. It was the least he could offer a creature who's sole offense was being able to let Grimlock indulge his savage nature.

As the flames flickered and the sky changed from blue to twilight's hues of reds, Grimlock worried. Even now he felt the tug. Visor cast in the direction of the forest, Grimlock longed to return to beast mode and hunt again. He knew it wouldn't be long before he did just that, for as strong willed as he was, he could no more stand against this sensation then he could have prevented his own creation. And that worried him.

Grimlock stood as a statue, watching the creature he had callously hunted turn to ash and bone while it's life fluids still covered it's murderer, and wondered if eventually even this kind of memorial would be typical of him.

Would Grimlock remain a Autobot Warrior and a steadfast companion of Optimus Prime, or would he become a Predator, a wild thing, no friends or foes...merely predators and prey?


End file.
